


Supposed to Be

by Isilanna (Betazoa)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Anal, Friends to Lovers, Future Starship Captain Nog, Gay Character, Just straight up porn, M/M, Not Enough Oomox Though, Oomox, Oral, Other, PWP in the Classic Fashion, Pansexual Character, Space Tinder, That Good Nasty Shit, Transgender Character (mentioned), gratuitous use of the word fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 16:46:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10283471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betazoa/pseuds/Isilanna
Summary: Jake snoops through Nog's private padd and discovers his Space Tinder account. He already knew Nog was gay, but everyone Nog has hooked up with looks eerily similar to...him?What's a pansexual to do when all signs point to his best friend desiring him?Written for Deathstar510 as part of the Trek Rarepair Swap - Round 8





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deathstar510](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathstar510/gifts).



There had to be an explanation, Jake thought. Or at least, an explanation other than the one that had him feeling like he'd just run a lap of the entire habitat ring, body surging with nervous energy as his heart pounded.  
  
He hadn't meant to pry into Nog's business; really, he hadn't. Well, maybe he had, a little. It was entirely out of character for Nog to leave his personal things just lying around in the common area, so Jake really can't be blamed for his curiosity. It wasn't as though Nog had been called away to an emergency. He'd simply left for his regular shift on time that morning, but neglected to replace his padd in his room like he always did.  
  
Jake had always teased him about being meticulously tidy, obsessive about it nearly to the point of neurosis. Now, he was beginning to suspect Nog was not just a neat freak, but rather that he was being intensely private. And for a good reason, if what Jake had just found on his padd was anything to go by.  
  
Finding the Nuclyr interface on his padd was no surprise. When Nog had returned from the Academy, they had butted heads over basic lifestyle preferences, to the point where Jake's dad had very obviously interfered to force them to make amends and learn how to live with each other. After all, they were best friends, so what was a rigorous cleaning schedule or a few days worth of dirty dishes compared to the bond they had? Sitting down and hashing it out, some new truths had come to light from both of them as they reenforced their friendship, including a confession the likes of which Jake would have never expected from his best friend.  
  
When they were younger, Jake had been reluctant to discuss his sexual experimentation with Nog for quite some time. He wasn't ashamed, but Nog had been brought up under traditional Ferengi gender roles, so how could he understand or respect Jake's sexual fluidity, especially his willingness to submit to men on occasion? But the truth had slowly eked out, from one incident to the next, and he'd been so gratified by Nog's constant acceptance.  
  
Nog had been so unfazed when Jake was dating or hooking up with people of different identities, whether they were a man or woman or another gender, whether they were cisgender or transgender, or if they were genderfluid or entirely agender. Jake found value in every part of the spectrum, and Nog didn't seem perturbed or confused by that. Sometimes flustered by encountering an intimate scene and often snappish afterward -- Jake had a bad habit of bringing other people to their secret spots for assignations -- but if he only ever condemned Jake's discretion, not his preferences.  
  
Then, after all those years, Jake found out that Nog was _gay_. No wonder he hadn't cared that Jake's sexuality was unlimited; he was already living with his own unconventional sexuality, at least by his people's standards. He'd kept it quiet all that time and then warped off to the Academy, only to give in to years of pent up frustration and secret desire by fucking as many men as he felt like. And he'd handwaved and tried to avoid direct questions about it, but it had seemed to Jake like it hadn't been just a few.  
  
Scrolling through his Nuclyr profile again (for the fourth time that afternoon just to be sure he he hadn't been mistaken the first three times) it was clear that it was far more than a few. Nog's message history contained flirty and even outright filthy conversations between him and dozens of men. Jake had started reading a few, only to feel like a complete voyeur when he got to the part of some of the messages where they agreed to meet up, and then the brief comments exchanged afterward.  
  
He couldn't help opening up another message, from someone who coined the username umberstarboy69. Instantly he regretted it as  his stomach twisted unpleasantly when he read the last message sent: _"thx for a great ride captain."_ It was followed by a string of suggestive emotages that Jake perfectly understood, having sent them to more than a few people himself with the same intent behind them.  
  
Futurestarshipcaptainnog was the handle Nog used. Jake would have rolled his eyes, but in more than a few of the message previews, he could see a lot of the men were perfectly happy to call the then-cadet "captain." Upon consideration, Jake thinks that he really needs to get a Nuclyr account.  
  
Or at least, he might feel like he needed to get a Nuclyr account if he hadn't seen Nog's. Because among all that the men Nog had messaged and _rendevoused_ with were from different parts of Earth, there was a certain...commonality that ran through the whole list. They were all tall -- 1.8 meters or taller, as he requested on his profile. They were all of a pretty slender build. And they were all black.  
  
In short, they all bore an uncanny resemblance to one Jake Sisko. Even now, on his fourth review of the facts before him, he had to admit that it was a hell of a coincidence that the only messages Nog had ever replied to or sent to first were men who fit those specifications. That left him with the reality that either Jake just so _happened_ to be exactly his best friend's type, or...  
  
Or _something_ that made his chest tighten when he considered it. Something exciting and terrifying that he had no idea what to do with. Well, he had a few ideas, maybe. They were the same ideas that had confused the hell out of him as a young teenager back when he still thought his best friend was exclusively attracted to women and before he himself had realized there were sexualities beyond straight and gay. It was even before Nog apparently decided that he didn't give a damn about "Ferengi values" in regards to respecting women, and before he was able to stop denying that he only wanted men.  
  
Jake, who has been pacing around reading more excerpts from conversations he had no business prying into, flings himself down onto the hard sofa with a theatrical groan. He puts his feet up on the arm of the sofa like Nog hates but has grudgingly come to tolerate, and presses the now-deactivated padd over his face. He can only remember having felt this nervously restless on a few occasions in his life, and that was usually before a first date. On top of that, he'd only felt the same level of conflicted excitement when he'd gotten accepted to the Pennington School. His indefinite deferment, one which had since transmuted from _maybe someday_ to _bygone opportunity_ , is one of his life's great what ifs, somewhere up there with Mardah moving to Regulus III and growing up without a mother in his life.  
  
His brow furrows at that thought, at that echo of regret for potential unrealized, causing the padd to wobble and slide off of his face. He catches it quickly before it can fall to the ground, and that's when he hears the sound of a keycode being entered at the door. Quick as a flash, he's upright and stashing the padd beneath one of the severely abused throw pillows that Jadzia had given them as a housewarming gift when they'd first moved in together.  
  
When Nog walks in, Jake can't exactly say that he's the picture of composure. He's sitting idly on the couch, as conspicuous as a child standing just that little bit too close to the cookie jar. "Hey, Nog," he says quickly, before realizing that his tone sounds like someone who knows they have been caught. He presses on regardless, hoping to distance himself from the scene until he can put the padd back exactly where he found it because he knows Nog will notice if it's anywhere else. After all, he'll know he wasn't the one who stuffed it under the pillow.  
  
"Are you hungry?" he asks, spinning a quick lie in his head. "I'm starving. I've been working on a story all day and I forgot to eat. Again. You know me." He laughs nervously. "You wanna go to the Replimat? Our replicator never gets jambalaya right. I mean, no replicator even comes close to the stuff my dad makes, but the Replimat's stuff is definitely better than what this one makes. So what do you say?"  
  
Nog hasn't even returned his greeting yet, still stunned by his abruptness. His eyes narrow slightly, suspiciously. Jake is so busted. "Uh, yeah, maybe later. I'm not really--" He stops, mouth still open for a moment before his lips purse. Jake follows his line of sight.  
  
The corner of the padd is sticking out from under the pillow. Trust Eagle Eye Nog to spot something out of place in their quarters from a parsec away. What's worse is that it's the corner that was chipped when Nog had lobbed it at him after an off-color joke from Jake at his expense several months ago. _"My padd is chipped!"_ Nog had protested, still laughing. _"You tried to chip my_ head! _"_ Jake had pointed out. From that noteable flaw sticking out from underneath the flamboyant pillow, it was patently obvious that the mostly-obscured padd was Nog's.  
  
Nog crossed the room and moves the pillow aside, picking up his padd. He turns to Jake holding it up. "Were you using my padd?"  
  
Jake stares at him for a moment, blinking stupidly until his mouth kicks in and takes over without his useless brain's help. "Yeah, ok, I wasn't writing _all_ day. I took a dom jot break. You have more levels unlocked than me, so I borrowed your padd." He pauses a second, then holds his hands up for effect. "I didn't take it out of your room. You left it on the table this morning."  
  
"Oh," is all Nog replies, and Jake thinks he might have actually pulled this off. He's congratulating himself on a spectacular save -- sure, he was caught using Nog's padd, but it was perfectly innocent -- when Nog turns to him again, pointing at him accusingly with the padd. "Hang on, no one plays more of that stupid dom jot game than you. How can I possibly have more levels unlocked?"  
  
Jake hasn't even completed his nonchalant shrug when he realizes Nog is entering his authorization code for the padd (5-alpha-5-epsilon-7), and the feeling of defeat creeps up on him again. _Well, Jake,_ he thinks, _this is what you get for snooping._ He'd left the Nuclyr interface up on the screen when he deactivated it; Nog will know immediately what he was really doing with the padd.  
  
He could act like it's not his fault -- if Nog wanted privacy, he shouldn't have used the same code for at least the past 3 years on everything! Or he could just push the whole problem away and tell Nog he needs space after what he found out, and maybe Nog would feel too guilty to confront him over the prying. Or maybe he'd just be too embarrassed to say anything, and Jake could make his escape to the Replimat for a while...  
  
In the end, he feels way too shitty about trying to trying to turn this around on Nog, to make it his fault or make him feel bad for something Jake had no business knowing in the first place. He resolves to stand there and take whatever anger Nog decides to rightfully turn on him for his gross invasion of privacy.  
  
Nog is staring down at the padd, and even though it's angled so he can't see it, Jake knows what he's looking at. His message hub, with rows and rows of explicit and unmistakeable conversation snippets and accompanying pictures of smiling brown faces or lean brown bodies in varying states of undress. Nog stares down at the padd for a long moment, a seemingly interminable length of time considering that Jake is ready to burst out of his skin with shame and beg for Nog's forgiveness.  
  
At long last, Nog deactivates the padd and tosses it down onto the coffee table with a clatter. Jake startles a little, both at the sudden sound and at Nog's uncharacteristic behavior. That isn't where padds _go_ , at least not to Nog. He always puts things in their _place_ , never in a place they don't belong. He'd lived under his father's sloppy housekeeping long enough to develop a strong preference for orderliness in his own quarters, after all, and this did not fit the pattern of behavior Jake was used to.  
  
"It's fine," Nog says, turning away. He runs a hand over his face, looking tired and entirely too young to be dealing with all of the expectations that Jake knows are placed on him every day in the midst of the war. "You know, I kind of thought you'd figured it out weeks ago when Samir came up to our table at the Replimat."  
  
Jake draws in a single breath, remembering that day clearly. Out of context at the time, he'd thought nothing more of it than an amusing circumstance, Nog being approached by a former paramour and clearly unwilling to resume their acquaintance. But then, the man -- Samir -- had given Jake an odd look and excused himself pretty quickly. When it had happened, Jake had thought the man mistakenly assumed he was crashing a date, but in hindsight, he'd probably taken in Jake's similar height and build and skintone...  
  
"I didn't--I didn't realize that--I mean, it was just one guy, and--" Jake stumbles over his words in a manner rather unbecoming for an author and journalist, but he can't really come up with what to say. What he wants to say is, _"Do you want me like you wanted those other guys? Or did you want_ them _like you wanted_ me? _"_  
  
Instead, what he manages to say is "It's--it's fine. Really. It is." He's trying for breezy (probably) and failing miserably (definitely) because his mouth is a runner stuck between two bases, unsure of which way to run when the pitcher turns with the ball in his hand. But it's clear that he picked the wrong base to run for because Nog is walking away from him, and it's too late to change direction so he just keeps babbling. "You just...have a preference, it's perfectly reasonable, I understand--"  
  
"Do you?" Nog says, turning his head just slightly to talk at Jake over his shoulder. "You'll fuck anyone. What do you know about preferences?"  
  
Jake bristles furiously at the accusation, which hits him like a 90 mile an hour pitch to the gut. Nog is a hell of a person to be accusing him of something like that when Jake's just seen how many hook-ups he'd had on Earth. "I don't just fuck _anyone,_ Nog," he says dangerously, closing the distance between them and grabbing Nog by the shoulder to forcibly turn him around. "All the trash that people say about pansexuals, all the criticisms that we're slutty and have no standards -- and here I thought you actually understood it's not like that. I thought you were my friend."  
  
"I _am_ your friend," Nog says, as much a snarl as words. "Your friend whose padd you broke into, your friend whose private messages you read, your friend who stood by as you _experimented_ your way through everyone our age on the station."  
  
He pulls away roughly, leaving Jake's hand that was on his shoulder suddenly grasping empty air. Nog is nearly through the door of his room when Jake hears something he's not sure he was meant to hear, the quiet addition: "Everyone except me."  
  
Without a thought, without conscious control of his body, Jake closes the distance between them, pressing Nog into the doorframe and leaning as far down as he can, until their faces are only inches apart. "You're my _best friend_. I didn't even know you were gay back then, and if I had, I still wouldn't have ever even hoped you were thinking the same things about me that I was thinking about you."  
  
Nog's jaw drops a little at that. Jake is sweating and trembling now, shocked at his own confession and riding high on the adrenaline of the argument. "You were the first guy I ever thought about...like that. But all you ever talked about was girls and then I met Mardah, and I realized I was open to lots of things. So I thought maybe I was just thinking about you because you were around so much and I wasn't particular about which kinds of parts I was interested in."  
  
"Was that all it was?" Nog asks quietly, darting his tongue out to lick his lips nervously.  
  
"Fuck no," Jake says with a sigh, and then he leans even further down despite how his back protests, to smash his lips against Nog's in a messy, hungry kiss.  
  
It's awkward and clashing and _hot_ and Jake wants more, but Nog pulls away with a growl. His eyes are dark, green irises swallowed up by blown pupils, and Jake realizes they're both panting and grasping each other's clothing like they're about to be torn from each other's arms by a sudden chamber decompression. Nog lets go of him just long enough to grab the front of his shirt, dragging him into the bedroom and throwing him down on the bed in a maneuver that Jake can't anticipate -- some kind of Starfleet training, undoubtedly, on how to bring some an opponent bigger than you. He's falling, but he's quick enough to drag Nog down with him and they crash onto the bed with a hard exhalation of breath forced from their lungs in a _whumph_.  
  
Nog stares down at him and their wide-eyed gazes hold for a moment before they both burst into laughter. They're shaking with mirth, a release of all the pent-up tension, and then they're kissing again hungrily and Jake can't say who initiated it this time because he's too busy invading Nog's mouth and running his hands all over Nog's body because _fuck_ if he hasn't at some point imagined feeling him up in his officer's uniform.  
  
And Nog's hands are running all over him too and before he realizes it, all the buttons on his vest and shirt are undone and his chest laid bare by those clever engineer's hands. Nog pulls away, despite how Jake's head follows in an attempt to keep working that rude fucking mouth, and he grins down over his handiwork. Jake huffs and reaches for the zipper of Nog's jacket, taking immense satisfaction in slowly unzipping it. He knows there are two more shirts underneath it, but he's a traditionalist in that he likes the anticipation in unwraping his presents.  
  
He growls in frustration when Nog bats his hands away and makes quick work of the jacket and his yellow overshirt, leaving him in only a light, gray undershirt. Jake takes the hem of it before he can remove that too, and insistently pulls them hem upward so he can at least have _some_ part of the undressing process in his hands. Nog relents with an indulgent smile and lets him slip the shirt up over his head, and then gestures down to Jake's own garments.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Jake shoves Nog off of him and shucks his shirt and vest, before pointing down at his crotch. "The pants, too?" he asks innocently, despite the wicked gleam in his eye.  
  
Nog responds by removing his own, shorts and all, and Jake is left to stare at him like an idiot because he can't fucking look away. He's doesn't even know if he's breathing, but he must be because he's not dead, just entranced. He's heard all sorts of rumors about Ferengi and was never sure what to believe, but he can tick some mental boxes now that he's seen it in person. Because Nog's cock is huge, way above human average, and covered in ridged patterns like the ones on his nose, which extend down from his hips across the entire pubic area. It's fucking _impressive_ , and Jake _wants_ it.  
  
Jake can tell that Nog knows because his expression is so infuriatingly smug. "Now you've seen my _yash-rek_ , why don't you show me yours?" And there something about the way he says it that makes Jake's breath catch in his throat. Nog sounds like he really wants to see it, and Jake really wants to show it to him, wants to see Nog looking at his fucking cock.  
  
He pulls off his pants clumsily and tosses them aside without a care, focused only on removing all barriers between them. Nog's brow raises when he sees Jake wasn't wearing any underwear, and Jake is thrilled at the way he bites his lip with those sharp teeth in subconscious response. He's just about to bury hip face in Nog's lap, taking as much of that intriguing cock into his mouth as he can, when he's once more flattened by a Ferengi who is approximately half his size. He doesn't have time to laugh at his predicament or protest his thwarted intentions, when his own cock is engulfed by a hot mouth and he can't remember what he even wanted in the first place.  
  
He spends the first few seconds gasping for air like a fish on dry land because _fuck_ if Nog isn't good at this. A curl of jealousy spirals through his guts, before he firmly clamps down on it. He hadn't exactly been celibate all this time, and Nog was here right now, with him and not anyone else. The past is the past, and the present is really fucking divine as a result.  
  
Jake has to keep reminding himself to open his eyes because as natural as it feels to squeeze his eyes shut in ecstasy, he'd much rather watch that tempting pair of ears rising and falling over his hips as Nog takes his cock deep into his throat over and over again. It's a different experience than he's used to -- there's no hair to pull, and since he doesn't want to clench Nog's sensitive lobes with grasping, desperate hands, he has to settle for twisting his fingers through the sheets. At one point, he definitely hears a tear, the sound of seams coming apart just like he is.  
  
He can feel the pressure building, fingers and toes spasmodically seizing here and there. Despite his higher brain's awareness that he doesn't want to come just yet, his hips snap up, driving his cock deeper down Nog's throat. Small but strong hands pin his hips down after that, and though Nog glares up at him through his mouthful, he astonishingly does not choke or pull back. The sight of those bright green eyes glowering is too much, and Jake reaches out a hand to place on the side of his face, stilling him.  
  
Nog pulls back and releases Jake's cock from his mouth with one last caress of his tongue, and Jake moans deeply at the loss. It's tempting to press him back down onto it, to put a hand on the back of Nog's head and just fuck his mouth and come down his throat. Something about the feral hunger nakedly displayed on Nog's face tells him it would even be welcomed. But Jake's mind has been spinning since the second he pressed his lips to Nog's against that door frame, and he wants more than just that; as good as Nog's throat would look working around his cock to swallow all of his come, he has something else in mind.  
  
While Jake is trying to remember how to form words to ask for what he wants, Nog sticks one turquoise-nailed finger into his own mouth, sucking on it for just a second in an oddly fetching manner. Before Jake can even wonder why, the moistened digit is between his spread cheeks, playing at and then sliding into his hole. "Ah," is the only sound he can choke out as Nog crooks his finger this way and that, before hitting on that sweet spot located deep within him, and his body reacts like it's been hit with a jolt of electricity.  
  
That is, if electricity felt more pleasurable than getting your cock sucked by your surprisingly talented best friend. If his orgasm had been close before, now it was screaming toward him like the Defiant at warp. He felt as though he was dangling over a precipice, holding on only by the very tips of his fingers and clawing at the cliff's edge to keep from teetering over into that blissful abyss. His teeth gritted hard enough to be slightly painful, and his hand shot out to clamp down on Nog's wrist.  
  
Nog hisses at the iron grip on his thin wrist, and and Jake sits bolt upright with a contrite expression on his face, letting go of Nog instantly. The finger slides out of him as Nog pulls away, and Jake sees a brief flicker of hurt cross his face only to smooth out into nonchalance.  
  
"Thought humans liked that," he says with a shrug, voice thick from how he'd abused his own throat with Jake's cock. His lips were swollen as well, and Jake carefully pulls his smaller form flush against him, shuddering a little when their cocks drag against one another because what Nog has apparently been packing this whole time is just...  
  
He takes a steadying breath, in his mind making a concerted effort to walk away from the edge of the precipice Nog had brought him to. "We do -- or at least, _I_ do," he says, grinning broadly. "But I still have plans for this hard-on." He waggles his eyebrows at Nog suggestively, and is met with a furrowed brow.  
  
The expression morphs into a sharkish leer, as Nog presses his body more firmly against Jake's. He brings his lips up to brush across one comparitively tiny ear, toothing it gently before saying in a low voice, "Jake, I'm happy to jerk you off while I do it, but you do realize I'm going to be the one filling you up tonight, don't you?"  
  
Jake swallows hard, partly at the hot breath on his ear, but mostly because he's never seen Nog so _predatory_ before. Every facet of him -- from the cocksure confidence gleaming in his darkened eyes, to the sex-laden purr of his voice, to the masterful way he's played Jake's body throughout their encounter -- iss like nothing he's ever seen from Nog before. This is the Nog who'd sent those positively filthy replies on Nuclyr, who had been _thanked_ for his efforts by a number of the men he'd been with, and Jake is glad to have met him at last, so unexpectedly.  
  
This version of Nog is not only new and exciting, but agonizingly arousing to boot. Jake wants nothing more than to pin Nog down and fuck him, but that would be short-sighted of him. If he played his cards right here, he could not only have Nog bouncing prettily on his cock, but he could then get himself filled up by Nog's fucking mouthwatering cock -- or whatever he called it -- as he'd been promised.  
  
"That's one idea," Jake concedes, nodding thoughtfully without truly giving it consideration. "But I'd think a Ferengi with lobes like yours would be looking for a bigger opportunity."  
  
He knows that he's scored a direct hit because Nog's hands clutch him a little harder and his cock is leaking a steady supply of precome over Jake's hip. He runs his fingers through it, assessing the quality for a moment before deciding it's perfect because it means they don't have to go fumbling for lube. Nog's cock is fucking _perfect_.  
  
He whispers his idea into Nog's ear then, nearly engulfing the lower half of his face in that delicate part of Ferengi anatomy to provide maximum stimulation of his hot breath against oversensitive flesh. "You know all about the human refractory period, and from what I've heard, Ferengi don't have anything like it. I'm dying to feel that thing inside me, but if you go first, I won't be able to reciprocate. At least, not for a few hours."  
  
While Jake patiently waits for Nog's response, he can't help but let his tongue slip out to trace along the line of his lobe. A low groan tells him it's appreciated, and he mouths his way down to the soft flesh at the bottom, suckling lightly. He hums happily, enjoying the feeling of flesh in his mouth. The first time he'd given anyone head, he had immediately become obsessed with the feel of a woman's vulva against his mouth, of putting his tongue between her lips. It wasn't until he sucked his first cock when Mardah trusted him with her story and her body that he'd understood that he really liked putting things in his mouth, no matter what they were or what gender they were attached to.  
  
Nog's lobes are no different, and he's enjoying the heavy panting his ministrations are eliciting. A gentle scrape of teeth draws out a breathy whine that shoots straight to Jake's cock and he's got to have his answer _now_. Rolling over so he's on top of Nog, he gives Nog his best smile, as manipulative as it is genuine. It's the one his best friend can never say no to, and now that he understands why, he intends to use it to their mutual advantage from now on.  
  
"So what do you say?" He is almost holding his breath in anticipation.  
  
Nog laughs a little and shakes his head at Jake, but he's smiling too. "I'd say you've learned from Ferengi a little too well. Who could refuse a proposal like that?"  
  
A thrill runs through Jake because _he said yes_ , and for all the times he'd thought about picking up his best friend and setting him down on his cock -- his early adolescence was less confusing with the benefit of time -- he's finally going to be able to. Grin never leaving his face, he settles himself between Nog's legs, tearing his gaze away from the green eyes only so he could focus on the task necessary.  
  
Not that it's an unbearable task. Second only to his enjoyment of putting things in his mouth is putting his fingers inside things, and he's got an excellent partner to satisfy that interest right now. Nog is built slightly, but what little roundness there is to his body is located in his cheeks -- both upper and lower. The little swell of his ass fits perfectly into Jake's large hands, and his mouth actually waters a little as he beholds Nog spread out before him, shivering a little as Jake squeezes his ass greedily. He's never eaten out anyone's ass before -- though he was introduced to the pleasure somewhere along the way -- but for the first time he understands why some people love it so much. He thinks it would be fantastic to run his tongue over those pristine cheeks before slipping it into that tiny hole.  
  
But what he really wants right now is to fuck Nog blind, so he settles for appropriating some of Nog's own precome direct from the source and loosening him up the old fashioned way. At least this way, he gets a better view of Nog writhing on his fingers, either swearing or pleading with words the translator doesn't seem willing to put into Standard. He takes his time, scissoring his fingers slowly at first and building up to a hard finger fucking that turns Nog's shivering into full-body trembling and has Jake panting heavily, his own cock dripping in readiness. From what he understands, Ferengi don't have an equivalent to the prostate, but enjoy anal stimulation nevertheless.  
  
" _Oovek-in yog_ ," Nog gasps as Jake pumps three fingers in and out of him. Jake glances up and sees the thin sheen of perspiration on Nog's forehead. "Please."  
  
Jake's cock jerks at that single desperately syllable, knowing exactly what Nog is begging him for. He runs a loose fist over Nog's erection, which is so wet now, and then slicks it over to his own quickly. He doesn't just want to tower over Nog while he penetrates him, though, so he pulls a confused Nog up against him upright. Nog doesn't resist, though, so it's simple work to maneuver them so that Jake is sitting with his legs out in front of him while Nog straddles his lap on his knees. Their eyes meet, and the heavy weight of emotional intensity settles between them as Nog understands.  
  
Never breaking eye contact, Nog slowly lowers himself onto Jake's cock. He bites his lip slightly as the head breaches him, stretched but not loose enough to simply slide down onto him. He works his way down bit by bit, and Jake is sweating like a champion thoroughbred post-race, hands gripping Nog's hips and resisting the urge to push him down until their bodies are flush. It takes a few minutes, and Nog has even begun playing with him, bobbing on the tip several times before pulling off entirely and then sinking down lower each time, but eventually he is fully seated on Jake's lap.  
  
Jake swallows hard at the feeling of being entirely sheathed in Nog's tight heat, and his eyes flutter shut for a few seconds. They snap open again when Nog begins to move, and he's glad he's watching because feeling the _thing_ Nog is doing with his hips is simply not enough. He wishes he had a holorecorder so he could capture the sight of those rolling motions for posterity as they squeeze him exquisitely because _fuck_ he knew Nog had experience and so does he, but he couldn't even imagine how to learn something like that himself.  
  
His breath grows short because he knows he's getting close and it's not fair because he could fuck Nog for hours if his cock would let him, so he holds Nog steady for a moment, pressing their mouths together in a fucking gorgeous mess of a kiss with too much tongue and too much teeth and not enough air. Jake tightens his hold on Nog's hips when he tries to move again, and Nog pulls back from the kiss with a confused expression.  
  
"I'm too close," Jake says, a touch of chagrin coloring his tone. "If you keep doing that, it'll all be over in a few seconds."  
  
"That'd be a shame," Nog says, nodding thoughtfully. "I was kind of hoping..."  
  
He trails off and even in the low light Jake can see the light flush rising over his ears and lobes, wondering what the hell could make his apparently shameless best friend, who was _currently sitting on his cock_ , blush at the thought of even mentioning.  
  
"What?" he asks, playfully. Nog sighs, shaking his head a little. "Come on, you can tell me. I was contemplating putting my face in your ass earlier. Whatever it is you're thinking of, I want to do it."  
  
Nog's terrifying teeth worry his lip for a moment longer before he finally speaks up. "I want you to pick me up."  
  
" _What?_ " Jake half-yells, half-laughs incredulously, and he's instantly contrite at the way Nog's face falls, tentative hope transmuting into embarrassment. Jake peppers his face with kisses immediately, murmuring apologies against his lips. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You just always yelled at me not to pick you up. You even said Ferengi weren't meant to be that tall, which is why the stepstool business on Ferenginar was so robust!" He fondly recalled Nog shouting that at him, resembling nothing so much as an angry kitten after Jake had picked him up in retaliation for a joke about being a human with a broken endocrine system that didn't tell him when to stop growing.  
  
Nog buries his face in the crook of Jake's and mumbles something into his skin. "Come again?" Jake asks. When Nog repeats the mumble, still completely unintelligible, Jake lightly tweaks his earlobe.  
  
Sighing, Nog draws back. "I liked it," he admits sulkily. "The first time you did it in my uncle's stockroom when I was trying to reach those bottles of Llellen wine we wanted, it made me, well, like this." He gestures down at his full erection, still weeping precome. Jake's mouth has fallen open at some point, remembering how annoyed Nog had been at what had seemed like a simple act of teamwork in acquiring something illicit to drink while underage.  
  
"It's pretty hard to hide, you know," Nog adds, and Jake isn't sure if he's bragging or complaining. Knowing Nog, it's probably both.  
  
"So all those times--like that time I threw you over my shoulder in the holodeck because you weren't running fast enough from that Klingon battle targ...?"  
  
"Why do you think I suggested we climb a tree and wait for it to pass?" Nog asks exasperatedly. Jake is struck dumb by the realization that Nog had gotten turned on by him when they were younger, too. Sure, he's just found out today what exactly Nog had gotten up to on Earth, about the type of men he had clearly preferred, but...  
  
It's a positively bizarre moment, with Nog sitting on his cock, arms crossed in annoyance as Jake sits stunned from the revelation that they had wasted a _lot_ of time. He voices the thought aloud, and sardonically Nog points out, "We're still wasting time. Well, _you_ are."  
  
Jake's erection has wilted a little with neglect, but it rapidly returns to full strength as he forcibly brings himself back into the moment, having let his mind wander like an unappreciative idiot. "Not any more," he growls at Nog, pulling his knees out from under him to wrap them around Jake's hips. Nog's eyes become as round as saucers as he understands what Jake is doing, and he wraps his arms around Jake's neck securely.  
  
"Ready?" Jake asks, a quiet murmur.  
  
"Yeah." Jake drinks in the sight of a small smile that Nog is trying to stifle, proceeding to swing his legs over the side of the bed. With Nog wrapped around him, he stands, only a little shakily from laying down for so long. His hands immediately grab onto Nog's ass, a perk he didn't even consider, and he butts noses with Nog affectionately.  
  
He takes a few steps away from the bed so they are in the open, with nothing between Nog and the floor but Jake's steady hands. "Everything you hoped for?" Jake asks cheekily.  
  
Nog makes an annoyed sound. "It would be if you would just fuck me already, you overgrown hew-mon."  
  
And _there's_ the Nog that Jake is so fond of, the annoying, prickly, funny one who had Jake questioning his sexuality long before Mardah turned things upside down. So he's happy to oblige because he really wants to see what sounds he can pull from Nog at this height.  
  
He can feel his biceps flexing as he raises Nog up and lowers him on his cock the first time. It's even fucking tighter than when Nog was straddling him because all of Nog's lower muscles are engaged in holding himself up, and Jake is glad for the brief respite because it would have sent him over the edge before. It's a little difficult to figure out, especially because his brain is fogged from sustained lack of blood, but they settle into a rhythm where they are working together to raise and lower Nog on Jake's cock.  
  
And it's good, but something isn't quite working. Because Jake can come like this at some point, but he's not getting the reaction out of Nog that he wants, for all that Nog is breathing heavily and biting his lip. He's also a little frustrated at having to keep his hips still, when all he wants to do is mercilessly drive into that fucking warm, wet, _tight_ heat. Something needs to change, so Jake takes a few more steps until Nog's back is flush against the wall.  
  
Their eyes lock once more, and Jake sees something there that gives him permission, so he presses Nog firmly into the wall and thrusts up into him hard. The difference is instantly noticeable, and Jake gleefully drinks in Nog's gasp as he's pounded against the dull gray wall of their quarters. Resistance, it turns out, what was they needed to make this work, and Jake is so fucking glad he can just _fuck_ Nog into the wall. Nog, for his part, has fallen back into his Ferengi ranting, pressing the side of his face against the wall with eyes screwed tightly shut as a steady stream of words Jake doesn't know but completely understands fall from his lips.  
  
Jake's legs grow tired after a few minutes, but he knows Nog can come like this and he wants to see it so badly that he can ignore his own screaming muscles pushed past their usual limits. His own orgasm is so close again and he is beginning to fear that he'll lose it first when suddenly Nog's breath starts to catch in his throat on each intake tellingly. It's like a second wind, and Jake is ramming him even harder than before, and he can hear Nog's head hitting the wall and would be sorry about it if Nog wasn't also gasping _fehj, fehj, fehj_ because Jake knows the Ferengi word for yes. He's racing against his own orgasm because he can't lose when he's this close, and then Nog is moaning his name and Jake feels the warm, hot fluid hitting his chest and he can't look away from Nog's face when he's coming and...  
  
With a deep groan, his hips stutter a few times as he empties himself deep into Nog, who is now watching Jake just as intently when he throws his head back, almost sobbing at how fucking good it is. It's at least a minute before Jake realizes he's gripping Nog's ass too hard, and that if he wants to set Nog down carefully then he had better walk back over to the bed right now before they both end up on the ground and ruin this nice, pleasant afterglow they're having.  
  
He crosses the room and lifting Nog off his now-flaccid cock, he lays him down on the bed with the last of his strength and collapses beside him.  
  
"Tired already?" Nog asks, and Jake whips his head to the side to level him with the dirtiest look he could muster at the moment. The truth is that he's utterly exhausted, but even though an orgasm hasn't sated him entirely, he's still not in any form to do anything about it.  
  
Nog gives him another of those maddening smirks, and Jake summons up the strength to pull him close, so that he is spooning a grumbling Nog. He holds the smaller man against his chest, lazily tracing patterns across every inch of skin his arms can reach, which is quite a lot considering his arm length versus Nog's size. He swirls over Nog's thighs, making him shudden satisfyingly, but his touch skates past the still-prominent erection that he honestly envies right now.  
  
In his hold, Nog squirms a little with ticklishness as Jake lingers on his inner thighs, but parts his legs slightly to allow better access to the sensitive skin nevertheless. Jake seizes this opportunity and dips his fingers even lower, rubbing up against Nog's hot, loosened hole. Nog whimpers beautifully at the stimulation of his well-used orifice, pressing his hips back against Jake as one finger slicks up in the mess of semen on his cheeks and slides in.  
  
He leisurely finger-fucks Nog's ass to the sweet sound of soft moans. His own cock, well-spent and too tender for a second round, firms up with interest. He's impressed at his ability to get even half-hard, only ten minutes after the action. He presses it against Nog's backside, and leans down to whisper in his ear. "For someone who was so insistent on fucking me into the mattress, you seem very happy to be my compliant little bottom."  
  
Nog goes completely stiff in his arms at that; if there was one thing he hated, it was being called little, and he knew Jake only ever did it to rile him up. Jake's fingers slide out of his ass with a wet sound as Nog promptly turns over and climbs on top of him, madder than a wet cat. His cock is leaking again, and it's dripping down Jake's stomach to pool in his navel. _Fuck_ , it's impressive, and Jake knows exactly what it's going to be used for now that Nog has been stirred from his contented stupor. After all, he still really wants to get fucked.  
  
"This is what I get for letting you go first," Nog mutters, jabbing Jake in the hip with his erection. He leans in close, practically snarling. "Clearly, I should only ever let you come _second_."  
  
With the return of feisty Nog, Jake is fully hard now. It doesn't go unnoticed by Nog, who presses a hand between them to stroke Jake's cock, ignoring the sudden, sharp intake of breath as Jake hovers between pain and pleasure at the touch.  
  
"Poor hew-mons," he says, shaking his head scornfully. "Such pretty little cocks, and yet so lacking in stamina." Now it's Jake's turn to feel the prickle of irritation at being called little, though is fully aware Nog is only saying it to get his own back after Jake's remark.  
  
"Still, I really like this feature," Nog says, emphasizing his last point by drawing Jake's foreskin back and forth over the sensitive glans. Jake sucks in yet another difficult breath because Nog has found the exact edge where he wants Nog to stop but is also on the verge of begging him to continue.  
  
Now it's his turn to whine as Nog takes that cruel, amazing hand away, and even goes so far as to remove himself from Jake's body, sitting up in a kneeling position between Jake's legs. "I want you to prepare yourself," he says, in an authoritative voice. Jake wonders if he learned that specific tone in some Command track class at the Academy because he's so ready to obey, his fingers are already trailing through his navel, getting wet and slippery so he can press them inside himself.  
  
While Nog watches with dark fascination, Jake opens himself up as expeditiously as he possibly can while still being thorough. The whole time, his eyes are hungrily fixed on Nog's huge cock, and by the time he's fitting a third finger inside himself, Nog is stroking himself languidly for show. Once Jake's hole is loose enough that the third finger slides in easily, he tells Nog he's ready.  
  
"Are you?" Nog asks, batting away Jake's hand to inspect for himself. Two of his fingers slide in easily, and then a third without issue owing to the size difference of their hands. When he puts a fourth in, resistant at first but eventually yielding, he lets out a hard breath through his nose. "Yeah, you're ready for me."  
  
_"You're ready for me."_ The words reverberate through Jake's entire fucking being and he's so turned on it hurts. Literally, because his poor cock is so hard it hurts and his brain is fogged with how badly he still wants Nog. He's distracted and unprepared for what happens next, and yelps in a most undignified manner when Nog hoists one of his legs up and ducks under it. Suddenly understanding, Jake untenses his leg as it comes to a rest on Nog's shoulder, where Nog presses a kiss to his thigh.  
  
"Don't worry, gorgeous, I know what I'm doing," Nog says reassuringly. Jake is stunned at being called gorgeous, wondering who else Nog has said that to, when he feels something hard move up against his hole, and he forgets to be jealous in favor of savoring this moment.  
  
He can't really see himself being penetrated, so instead he focuses on Nog's face as he slowly enters him. He's still gleaming slightly with sweat by the light of the stars from his viewport (they'd forgotten or just not cared about lights during their clumsy entrance), and he's worrying his lip between his teeth again, which is sure to hurt later. Jake gasps as he feels the flare of Nog's cock push into him, and Nog is whispering reassurances to him instantly, at a complete standstill.  
  
"You're doing really well," he says, pressing more kisses to Jake's leg and gently squeezing his ass cheek on that side. "This is the tough part, just another few seconds if you want to continue. If you don't, that's fine too. I don't want anything you don't want."  
  
Despite the discomfort, Jake's smile is so wide he thinks it might split his face because Nog is, above all things, his absolute best friend and more considerate of Jake than most of his encounters ever were. He loves Nog, he's loved Nog for a long time as his best friend, and he doesn't know what that love means now that their whole context has shifted, but he wants this more than anything.  
  
"It's ok," Jake says in reassurance. "I know, and I want to."  
  
Nog swallows hard at his words and nods. Carefully, he resumes. Jake takes several deep breaths, and then as quickly as it began, the extra discomfort is dimished as his body has ceased its resistance. He opens his eyes without having realized they'd fallen closed in concentration, only to find Nog grinning down at him. "I knew you could take it." And Jake is shocked to realize Nog is now buried to the hilt in him, and he returns the grin.  
  
What follows is nothing like their first session. What was rough and fast is now gentle and slow, Nog gradually leaning in closer to Jake. He's pressing as much as Jake's hamstrings will allow, and then he shifts Jake's leg to the side and lets it slide down from his shoulder into the crook of his elbow, straining to lean in and connect their mouths. They kiss for only the briefest of moments, and for the first time since things ended between him and Mardah, Jake is making love and not just fucking.  
  
Jake's grateful because a hard fuck would be just too much with Nog pressing so deeply into him over and over again, but this is perfect for the first time. As that stray thought crosses his mind, he's already certain it will be the first of many times. He and Nog have locked gazes, and he can see in Nog's eyes the same thought: something has changed. Or maybe something has just woken up, considering the secrets they'd once kept from each other. Either way, this isn't some casual assignation, it's--  
  
But what it _is_ is suddenly lost when Nog does some trick with his back that changes the angle and suddenly Jake is seeing stars. He's gasping for breath and trying to articulate words he doesn't even know he wants to say, and then Nog drops his leg altogether and slides his body closely up against Jake's. Nog's nose nuzzles into Jake's neck and he feels Nog's lips and breath moving against his skin. He catches only a single word -- the litany entirely in Ferengi -- _latinum_.  
  
"What about latinum?" he asks breathily.  
  
Nog stills in his movements and looks up at Jake with a tender smile, his full cheeks flushed. "You're more perfect than latinum," he says, nipping at Jake's jaw. Jake turns his head and presses his cheek into the sheets, grinning helplessly at the sentiment.  
  
Jake runs his hands over every inch of Nog's body that he can now easily reach, and they move dreamily in sync for many long moments until a second bliss quietly creeps over them again. This time, it takes Jake first, but Nog is not long behind as he watches his lover's face suffuse with peace. Whereas Jake's second orgasm is subdued, Nog comes with a series of small moans, shuddering on top of Jake, who strokes his back and murmurs soft little words against the topmost ridge of his ear.  
  
Nog takes a few seconds to compose himself, having all but collapsed on top of Jake, and then he withdraws, peppering Jake with small kisses everywhere within range of his lips as he pulls out and settles himself at Jake's side. A serene silence descends over the bed they have shared, and between them Jake reaches down to entwine his fingers with Nog's.  
  
His best friend smiles up at him, and says, "That was...different." The tone of his voice is not condemning nor disappointed, but hopeful and pleased.  
  
"It's the way it's supposed to be, I think," Jake says after a moment of careful consideration. He frees his hand and uses both arms to pull Nog to him closely, the contented sigh Nog gives tickling his chest charmingly. "It's the way it'll always be for us...won't it?"  
  
Nog snuggles closer to Jake, their legs tangling together until they must appear to be a mass of mismatched limbs of different color and size. "You bet."


End file.
